My heart jumped to my throat and for a moment, I almost felt the biting steel of handcuffs calling me back to Montana State. We were toast.
“There you are,” Cole called, his eyes flickering between us with barely concealed amusement. “Evelyn’s looking for you, Ryder. Something about needing help with the bake sale setup.”
“Right,” Ryder nodded, smoothing down his shirt. “I’ll be right up.”
As Cole and Jesse retreated, Pastor John lingered, his gaze thoughtful as it moved between Ryder and me. There was something knowing in his expression that made my stomach drop. Had he seen us? Or worse, heard us?
“I should get these Christmas boxes up,” I said quickly, reaching for the nearest container.
“I’ll help,” Ryder offered, grabbing another box.
We worked in tense silence, acutely aware of Pastor John’s presence. He didn’t say anything, just watched us with that samecontemplative look, one that made me worry for my future in Hell Creek. When we had stacked all the boxes by the stairs, ready to carry up, he finally spoke.
“You know,” the pastor said quietly, “the church is hosting a special dinner after the rummage sale. Everyone’s welcome.” His eyes met mine directly. “Everyone, Connor. No matter what others might think.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“The sale runs until five,” Pastor John continued. “But the dinner starts at six. Just something to think about.” He patted me on the shoulder. “And don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
I stood there, stunned into silence. Pastor John knew about us. How much he’d seen or heard, I couldn’t say, but he definitely knew something was happening between Ryder and me. And instead of condemnation, he was offering... acceptance?
“Thank you,” Ryder said, recovering faster than I could. “That’s really kind of you.”
Pastor John smiled warmly. “This church is a sanctuary for all of god’s children. Not just the ones who fit a certain mold.” He gave me another meaningful look before heading up the stairs, leaving us alone once more.
“Well,” I said when his footsteps had faded, “that was unexpected. And we need to be more careful.”
Ryder let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah. But he’s always been different from the rest of the town. More... accepting.”
“You think he’ll really keep it to himself?”
“Pastor John’s kept more secrets than anyone knows,” Ryder said with certainty. “Trust me, we’re safe with him.”
I wanted to believe that, but seven years in prison had taught me not to trust easily. Still, there had been something genuine in the pastor’s eyes, something that made me want to believe him.
“We should probably get these boxes upstairs,” I said, reaching for one of the Christmas decorations. “Before someone else comes looking.”
Ryder nodded, picking up another box. “Will you come? To the dinner, I mean.”
I hesitated. The thought of sitting in a church hall with the locals, many of whom looked at me like I was something they’d scraped off their boots, wasn’t appealing. But the thought of seeing Ryder again, of spending more time with him, even in a crowded room where we’d have to pretend to be nothing more than acquaintances...
“I’ll try,” I said finally. “If I can get away from the ranch.”
The smile that lit up his face was worth any risk. “That would be amazing.”
“But no more kissing in public,” I said sternly. “I… I don’t want to stir up trouble.”
“S-Sorry,” Ryder said, hanging his head.
I reached out, tipping his chin up with my finger. “It’s not your fault, pup. I just want to be careful.”
My parole couldn’t end fast enough.
Chapter 22
Ryder
Did I need to buy a lava lamp from the sixties that would probably burn my cabin down? No. But was the money from my first paycheck at the Nelson Ranch burning a hole in my pocket? Yes. Also, it was pretty.
